


Dead Air

by Fruityloops



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bad Guys Made Them Do It, Bottom Tony Stark, Dark, Homophobic Language, Humiliation, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony Stark, Kidnapping, M/M, Mutual Non-Con, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Protective Steve Rogers, Slut Shaming, Steve Whump, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Tony Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-11 18:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15321267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fruityloops/pseuds/Fruityloops
Summary: Steve didn’t know what made Tony behave in this way - why the man felt the need to goad and provoke whenever he found himself at a disadvantage. Most of what Tony did was honestly a mystery to him.He wasn't about to start commanding the other to be quiet. Bickering at each other wasn't going to help the situation, but...Tony just keptpushing and pushing,Avengerkink fill: Steve and Tony are captured by a group of mercenaries. Tony won't shut up. Things escalate





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A fill I've had lying around unfinished for about a year. Full prompt is in the end notes.. I think this will be a 3 or 4 chapter story. Most of it is written out, but it's pretty loose so I'm open for suggestions :>
> 
> Heed the warnings. Neither Steve or Tony are willing participants. This is set set not very long after the NY incident, Iron Man 3 has happened, Winter Soldier hasn't. So 2013-ish? English isn't my first language btw.

_"Shut it!_ "

Steve woke to shouting, followed by the abrupt sound of an open-handed slap. 

The first sensation his brain registered was pain - a dull throb in his upper back and head, itching and curling around in his skull. The rest of his body felt numb and disconnected,  _drugged_. 

He heard spitting, metal moving against skin and a hard surface, then a familiar, mocking voice. "The truths hurts, I know. Won't change the fact that this entire Saturday-morning cartoon operation of yours is guaranteed to blow up in your face. If you even have one. Can't be too sure with that get-up. Congrats on nailing the video game aesthetic by the way."

"Like you're one to talk." The angry voice from before hissed back. "Didn't I just tell you to  _shut the fuck up!?_ "

"Yep. Heard you the first five times too. You have a real way with words, and it's tempting, but I don't take unsolicited advice fro-  _ohff!_  " 

Shuffling and footsteps, the thump sound of something heavy connecting with soft tissue and a wheezed exhalation of air.  

Steve cracked his eyes open to find himself looking down at the blurred, lower half of his own restrained body - four pairs of thick cuffs weighing down his wrists and ankles to a floor-bolted metal chair. He couldn't recall much of anything about how he'd ended up like this. There was only a faint memory of something similar to an electric current running through his body, the communication device in his ear shorting out as his muscles had locked up.

He had been unconscious before he hit the ground. 

The last thing he'd seen was his own stunned face in the reflection of a pair of red-tinted sunglasses. 

_Tony._

The name was a mumbled mess on his lips, but it got a reaction nonetheless.

“Rogers! Never thought you'd wake. Me and – uh, Cobra Commander here, we're sort of in the middle of a conversation.“  

A black-clad soldier with a face-shield obstructing their features stood on the right to the billionaire, about eight feet opposite of Steve - apparently the recipient of the bulk of Tony’s complaining, There was a gun in their gloved, twitching hand, and the red, blooming mark on Tony’s left cheek was a testimony to the slap Steve had heard upon waking.

As Steve's sight slowly improved, he realized with dread, that the dark undefinable shapes he'd chalked up to stationary interior, was an ensemble of similarly darkly dressed, armed and masked soldiers.

He groaned internally. 

This was a  _stupidly_  bad scenario.

The room they found themselves in was elongated and claustrophobic, fitted with a low, rounded ceiling and a grated floor. He detected no movement, but Steve had the nagging feeling they were being transported. 

From what he could make out from his position, Tony was restrained as well and on his knees - hands behind him and secured to some sort of piping aligned with the wall. He was slightly hunched over from the kick he'd received, but he seemed to be in one piece - excluding sunglasses. 

Judging by the tension level in the room, Tony had been awake and talking for some time. 

“Not that there’s much to holding a conversation with an utter moron, but I’m used to-”

_"Shut up!"_

"Did you, at any point, think this plan through?" Tony went on, unfazed, and the masked guy turned fully towards him. "I'm  _warning_ you Stark."

The more Steve was seeing and hearing, the more he wished neither he or Tony had stepped outside of the Avengers tower earlier this morning.

The memory of it was weak. They'd been on the sidewalk. Tony had been ranting about something.

Steve furrowed his brows as he fought to remember.

 _Coffee. A_ pparently, the brand provided at SHIELD meetings was an atrocity. 

He couldn't recall much of importance, whether anyone had seen, if there had been many civilians present, or the actual details of how these people had gotten away with their unconscious bodies without apprehension. He was unable to make an assessed judgement of how long they'd been under capture. There were no windows to the outside.

His eyes scanned the soldiers’ attire and weapons to the best of his current ability, but didn't spot any identifying insignia or clues leading to a specific organization.

Their captors had clearly come prepared. Whatever had been used to knock him out with hadn’t been deterred by the serum, and the cuffs keeping Steve secured to the chair didn’t budge when he strained his limbs.

He craned his neck behind him to look around for any obvious exit routes, and found a single, metal door at the other end of the room with a large valve in the middle. An assortment of wires, cables and switches ran along the walls, connected to complicated looking machinery - buttons and screens full of incomprehensible text and numbers. He was sure Tony could draw something more useful from it, but Steve recognized it as the interior of an underwater craft, though far from as cramped and small as the ones he had ever known.

There had to be more than one room - _or chamber_. Whoever was controlling the craft was behind the door, which meant more people, more obstructions. He counted at least ten armed soldiers with him and Tony. 

Their trackers had either been removed or destroyed during their abduction. They had no means of alerting the team to their position, and even if they did, Steve had no idea what it was. Unless Tony had some sort of plan, or could magic up a connection to his suit unnoticed, they had nothing to go on but sheer luck in terms of escaping.   

He was pulled out of the worrying conclusions by a loud snort from Tony.

“I can tell you one thing," the billionaire's eyes were locked on the obscured face of the soldier towering over him. "It won’t end with you or your merry band of idiots alive.” 

Steve didn’t know what made the man behave in this way - why he felt the need to goad and provoke whenever he found himself at a disadvantage. Most of what Tony did was honestly a mystery to him, but he had been on the receiving end of his teammate’s mocking attitude enough times to know it was part of some sort of defense mechanism.

He wasn’t about to start commanding Tony to be quiet. Bickering with each other wasn't going to help the situation, but...

Tony just kept _pushing and pushing_.

“Can’t fault you for being stupid, It’s not exactly a crime to be an idiot." Tony shot the figure above him a nonchalant smile. "Though, ruining my morning should seriously be considered one. Those shades were custom, probably worth more than whatever you're getting paid to do this, just so you know."

The gun was nudged towards his face with more urgency.

“You shut your _cock-sucking whore mouth right now!_ ”

The voice of the person pointing their weapon at the engineer was distinctively male, though his pitch was slightly obscured, either by the mask or some sort of voice scrambler.

Steve couldn’t decipher whether Tony’s barked laughter was a nervous response to the crude choice of words or not.

_Stand down._

He tried to convey those words to his teammate with his eyes and facial expression, but Tony either didn’t notice, or more likely, ignored it in favor of rattling their captor even further. “That's... uh- original?” He wrinkled his nose and gestured in Steve’s direction. “And  _rude_. In case you haven't noticed, we have a senior in the room, and he doesn't appreciate excessive use of vulgarity." 

Steve cursed inwardly and jerked in his restraints when the smug response led to the barrel of the masked man’s gun being jammed against Tony’s cheek.

"That's it you little bitch!"

Steve couldn’t see them behind the face-shields, but he was sure everyone’s eyes were fixed on the two, Tony’s own half-lidded, unimpressed - challenging, then suddenly widening.

The mercenary’s back was slightly turned to Steve, but he heard the abrupt sound of a zipper being pulled and the rustle of clothes.

"Open your mouth."

When Steve saw a glimpse of the man’s newly freed member, simultaneously understanding what was being demanded from his teammate, he realized both he and Tony had  _severely_  underestimated what kind of methods these people were willing to use to subdue them.

If Tony had wanted to get a rise out of their captors, it had worked.

"Open  _your mouth,_  Stark.” The command was followed up with a nudge of the gun.

Tony didn’t let it show on his face for long, but Steve saw the uncertainty there, his self-assured expression faltering for a second, before being replaced with a look of disdain as he cocked an eyebrow at the sight in front of him, seemingly unimpressed.

“That's a joke, right?” Tony’s face broke into a sneer. “A blowjob? Or what, you're going to blow  _my_ head off?" The billionaire's expression betrayed nothing, but his laugh had a subtle, hysterical edge to it. "I bet whoever hired you and your suicide squad is going to be  _thrilled_  about that. Amazing plan right there." 

_Jesus Christ Tony, just stop._

Tony let out another dismissive snort, and Steve cringed on the inside. 

"You’re not going to shoot me. Stop pretending you can even  _afford_  to shoot me."

_Goddammit._

As the gun’s line of sight moved from Tony’s face to Steve’s position in the chair, he couldn’t help but wonder how someone so smart, could be so incredibly  _moronic_  as well.

His inner lamenting was cut short by a loud bang as white, searing pain exploded in the lower calf of his right leg.

“What the  _fu_ -“ Tony's shout of surprise was immediately cut off and replaced with a muffled garble.

Steve shut his eyes against the fire in his limb while the echo of the gunshot rang in his ears. The bullet had gone straight through, and the shot wasn't close to being dangerous, but the serum didn’t diminish any pain or discomfort.

When he blinked his eyes open again, shifting them up from the bleeding wound and his shaking leg to the scene in front of him, he could see Tony and the gunman in full view.

Tony's back was pressed against the pipes along the wall. The other man was bent over him, a leather-clad hand pinching the engineer's nose shut while force feeding him the length of cock offered a few seconds before. Tony let out a choked protest and attempted to twist his head away, hands yanking on the cuffs while his knees scuffled against the grated floor. The smoking gun was holstered and a loud smack rang out in the room when the newly freed hand came down on the side of the engineer's face again.   

“You’re right Stark.  _You’re_  what we came for." The hand buried itself in his hair and pulled, eliciting another gag. "One more word crosses those cock sucking lips of yours, and my co-worker here,” the man cocked his head towards one of the soldiers who pointed their automatic rifle at Steve, “-is going to empty a magazine into your star-spangled lover boy's face."

Tony’s body froze in its attempt to move back.

The sharp edges of the cuffs cut into Steve’s skin, but he couldn’t stop pulling on them. He was unsure of whether to speak or keep quiet - what to say to take the attention off Tony without being killed in the process.

He had little value to these people, and he wasn’t exactly keen on dying and leaving his teammate alone in their company.  

“I’ve always wanted to see the serum pushed to its fullest."

The tone of the voice had lowered, disgustingly perverse with excitement.

"How does it work, really?”

Tony swallowed, struggling to accommodate the man as he went on, “You think his balls would grow back, if we cut them off? “

Steve fought hard not to let the wince show on his face. Tony had gone dead silent, visibly paled. The fingers moved through the engineer's dark hair and held him close. "No need to pretend you aren't loving it. You practically live for this, don't you Stark?"

Tony didn’t make any attempts of answering or moving away. His eyes were closed, nose pressed flat against the man's crotch, a thin line of saliva traveling down from the side of his mouth to gather in his immaculately groomed beard while the voice continued. “That’s why you kept acting up before. So goddamn desperate for cock, just sitting there andbegging for someone to come over and give it to you.”

The masked face turned in Steve’s direction.

“Did you know Rogers? Rumor has it Stark finished MIT with a master’s degree in cock sucking.” The comment received a round of laughter from the onlooking soldiers, and Steve was instantly hyper-aware of the many eyes watching them. “Can you imagine it? Barely legal and more experienced at taking cock than a middle-aged prostitute on crack.”

The slight reddening of Tony’s cheeks was his only visible reaction to the accusations.

Steve could feel the heat burning on his own face.

He refused to acknowledge the words directed at him - to play a part in this -  _whatever_  this was, but his anger was building with every spoken line, and the bastard had suddenly turned awfully talkative. 

"He sure isn't showing it now, though. _Watch it!_ "

Discomfort was written all over Tony’s face when the hand in his hair yanked and the cock moved back a few inches,

“I feel teeth again, and it's going somewhere else."

Steve shuddered.

“Wouldn't be much of a punishment though. I know prissy bitches like you prefer it in the ass.” The claim was followed up by a sudden forwards thrust.

Tony’s throat let out a muffled, shrill sound, and his upper back jerked while the hand on his head held him in place. His legs scrambled on the floor beneath him, a hint of panic in his movements.

At least one of the masked soldiers in Steve’s line of sight had moved a hand towards the front of their crotch, casually groping themselves at the obscene sight of Tony choking.   

The situation had gone from a typical abduction scenario, to his teammate being tortured in the worst of ways, and Steve decided then and there he couldn't watch it go on in silence any longer.

He had little chance of outright stopping the sadistic behavior, but he might be successful in shifting the focus onto himself. Tony was the one they needed alive and functioning after all. 

“I think he would prefer it, if you stepped away and pulled your pants up.”

His voice was off - slurred, hardly intimidating, but the man turned his head and slid halfway out of Tony's gasping mouth to consider him.

"You're in no position to make orders,  _Captain_." The mask concealed all emotion - a blank slate of indifference. "Unless you want a front-row seat to me, and whoever wants to join in, taking your bitch-boy up the backdoor, you'll shut up and enjoy the show.”

The words sent chills down Steve's spine, and whatever else he was going to say died and shriveled up with that threat, the subsequent cackling from the audience and look of fear in his teammate’s eyes.

He couldn’t let them do that to Tony.  _To anyone_ ,

But _\- how  the hell was he supposed to just watch?_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full prompt(minus the end I don't want the whole story to be laid out for the reader): Tony is shut up by dick in a hostage situation. Pre civil War Steve and Tony has been captured and tied up by random villains. While they’re waiting for the rest of the team or one of the Iron Man suits to come to their aid, Tony starts blabbering off at their captors, provoking and mocking them. It works a little too well, because one of them walks over and puts a gun to Tony’s head, unzips his pants to pull his cock out and orders Tony to choke on it since he can’t seem to keep quiet on his own. Tony refuses at first, but quickly does as he’s told when one of the captors shoots Steve.
> 
> Tony is then forced to sit silently on his knees with the guy’s cock in his mouth while everyone watches, including Steve who can’t do or say anything about it because they threaten to do worse things to Tony if they both don’t keep quiet.  
> If you want to add to the scenario, the captors shove Tony into Steve’s lap and forces him to sit with his cock in his mouth too.
> 
> Bonus if  
> \- It's all from Steve's POV  
> \- The captors make comments about how much Tony loves it, is a slut for cock etc.  
> \- Steve has a small crush on Tony and gets an erection  
> \- Tony cries at some point
> 
> **********
> 
> I hope the characterization comes off alright. Never written Steve before. Btw, I noticed Avengerkink has been closed and the other memes I know aren't very active. Where do people go to get their prompt fixes nowadays?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There's a lot of trash talk and slut-shaming going on in this chapter, including homophobic language.

Steve clenched his hands in frustration, but kept quiet as demanded, and the masked man turned his head from him to focus on Tony.

The engineer drooled as the cock invaded his mouth again. Part of his face was shielded from view by his assailant's legs, but Steve spotted wetness in the corner of a visible eye, thick lashes clumping together and fluttering against a bulging cheek.  

His mind was turning in on itself in the attempt to come up with a course of action that would prevent the threats against either of them from becoming reality.  

He couldn’t get out of the restraints. Tony was in no position to help him. They were weaponless and surrounded by enemies, in an unknown vessel moving towards an unknown location. He had nothing to bargain with, and speaking up on Tony's behalf had only served to escalate the situation further. There was no way of knowing when and  _if_  the serum would override the substance he'd been injected with on its own. 

The only thing Steve could do in his current position, as much as it pained him to admit, was to obey the order to stay silent and hope for rescue or some sudden opportunity of escape to present itself.  

He had to stay calm. _For Tony's sake._

The filthy commentary had died down at least, if only for a while. The masked man had resorted to simply watching Tony with an assertive hand on the back of his head while the engineer swallowed around him.  No one said anything, apart from a few murmurs and whispers from the staring entourage of faceless soldiers, most of whom seemed to regard the scene as welcomed entertainment. 

Disgust welled up in Steve's insides when he heard heavy breathing to his right, followed by another zipper being undone.

It went on like that for a while - Steve helplessly watching as Tony was forced to kneel and hold the entirety of the commanding mercenary's cock in his mouth, while their audience of lowlifes gawked and lapped it up. 

The minutes passed by at an uncomfortable, slow pace.

Tony barely moved.

Every now and then he would shift his knees on the grated floor, fidget with his hands in the cuffs while his Adam's apple moved erratically up and down when he attempted to breathe around the intrusion in his mouth - clearly uncomfortable, but he didn't move back, nor open his eyes. 

Steve didn't know what to do with his own. Staring at his teammate felt wrong, but he couldn't pull them away from the scene in front of him.  

His wrists were slick with blood from pulling on the restraints. There had been no progress whatsoever in breaking the cuffs since he'd woken, and his arms and legs still felt like lead. The pain in his calf had dulled to a warm throb, but the effectiveness of the drug hadn't lessened. If the serum was battling it, it was happening at a painstakingly slow pace. 

A muffled, barely audible, whine sounded from Tony’s throat once the cock slid back to rest on his tongue. 

“Seems like we finally found a cure for your perpetual bitching.” 

Tony flinched when the hand in his hair moved down to stroke his face. 

"When was the last time someone gave it to you properly? Can't have been too long ago, knowing your reputation." 

There was a flash of anger in the billionaire's dark eyes once they looked up at his assailant, his entire body trembling with it, and Steve watched the masked man lean over him with dread.

_Don't talk back. Don't provoke him further._

 “I bet you’d love to suck it.”

Tony kept his gaze unwavering, a sliver of saliva slipping out from the side of his mouth as the head of the erection moved on his tongue.

Several of the mercenaries had placed their weapons back in their holsters, backs turned to Steve, entirely focused on their commander and Tony, and if Steve hadn’t been so  _useless_ and strapped down, this would have been the perfect moment to act - break the cuffs and take them on from behind. 

Instead, he was trapped in the chair, unable to look away as a gloved finger rubbed against the side of Tony’s mouth - pinching his reddened lower lip and smearing the drool there on his chin.

“Go on then.”

The hand let go of Tony’s face to settle on the back of his neck.

"Choke on it." 

It took all of Steve’s willpower to keep from protesting the demand. 

He didn’t want Tony to do it, to debase himself in front of these people.

But the alternative - what they’d been threatened with. All of them…  _forcing_  themselves on-   

 **No**. He grit his teeth and fought to banish the thought from his head. He wasn’t going to allow that to happen. _That isn't going to happen._  

He wanted to believe it, that rescue would come before that, and they would come out of this  _relatively_  unscathed.

Matter of fact was there was nothing Steve could do if their captors chose to make good on any of their threats.  

“Don’t hold out on me now." The voice filter wasn't able to mask its owner's obvious excitement. "We all know this is far from the first cock you’ve had in your throat.” 

Tony closed his eyes and pursed his lips around the man’s shaft, leaning his upper body forwards to take it further in, and Steve finally opted to shut his own eyes while the mercenary urged his teammate on. 

"That's it,  _fuck -_ yes, like that _,_ get it in there _. Use your tongue_." 

Nothing was left to the imagination once Tony got started.

Steve could hear  _everything_  –every sloppy suck and intake of breath, the wet slide of Tony's lips intermingling with his assailant's disgusting groans. A continuous rhythm of skin slapping against skin, obscenely sexual and loud in the small room.

Even harder to ignore were the taunts and catcalls from the audience, crude comments about how well Tony was taking it, how much he was enjoying his current position.  

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. He’s  _really_  going for it.”

"Think he could take two at a time?" 

"Yeah, I bet. Little cunt is a bigger pro at sucking dick than your wife, and that's saying a lot." 

"Hey-  _Fuck you!_ " 

Laughter. The sound of people pushing at each other and shuffling around to get a better view.

“Looks like he wants it deeper. _"_  

Steve could picture Tony’s scrunched up face accompanying the following retch. It sounded painful, far from enjoyable.

Listening to the nauseating sounds of Tony pleasuring the commanding soldier and the sadistic glee of the onlookers, knowing he had no means of stopping it, or even comforting his teammate, was his own personal hell, 

Tony was anything but weak or a stranger to torture. He could hold his own in and out of the suit, and his intellect and quick thinking made up for any shortcomings he might have when it came to sheer physical strength, but Tony was still a civilian - in the sense that he'd had very little military training.  

Lately, several months after the battle against Loki and his army, Steve had begun noticing signs of trauma in his teammate's behavior. 

Tony refused to talk about what he'd experienced on the other side of the portal, and would change the subject whenever it came up in interviews, but Steve recognized the look in the man's eyes when he was asked about it or shown images of the incident. 

He had seen that same numb, terrified look in the faces of men returning from the front lines of war a lifetime ago.

Back then it had gone by other names,  _Stress reaction_ ,  _Battle fatigue, Shellshock,_  and little had been known about the condition. The trusted methods of treatment at the time had been... lackluster, to put it politely. 

Things were different now.

He wondered if Tony had gotten any help for his mental scarring. He had the money, and he certainly had access to the right people. Maybe he was seeing a therapist in secret? 

Steve doubted it, somehow. 

“You should thank me for this, Cap.”    

The mention of his title pulled him out of the train of thought, and he blinked his eyes open, both relieved and stressed to see Tony pausing his ministrations and shift his upper body towards the man’s legs at such an angle Steve couldn’t see the expression on his face. 

The hand in the billionaire’s hair pulled upwards, and Tony let out a muffled hiss and swallowed thickly before the wet, sloppy sounds returned once he let the hand control the movement of his head.

The masked face was unreadable, but Steve could easily imagine a disgustingly triumphant smile as the man's hips rocked against Tony’s face. 

_The only thanks you are going to get is a broken neck._

He couldn’t say anything, but he refused to avert his eyes from the obscured face, delegated to glaring daggers.

“Don’t pretend you - ah- haven’t thought about it. _“_

The possessive hand on the back of Tony’s head moved to his neck while the thrusting picked up. 

“I bet the - constant bitching - gets on your –  _ungh-_  nerves too.” The man's voice was barely audible through the voice filter, heavy and strained, cutting off with every sharp jerk, signifying he was close – hopefully meaning this terrible ordeal would soon be over.  

Steve kept his lips sealed and gaze hardened. It wasn’t as easy as he’d liked.

He was embarrassed to admit it to himself, but there was  _some_  truth to the accusations.

He had thought about it - a few too many times on lonely nights. The cocky engineer, looking up at Steve with one of those seductive smiles of his, getting on his knees in front of him, taking Steve in his mouth and giving him the blowjob of his lifetime.

It wasn’t something he’d ever imagine acting on, or letting his teammate know. He didn't consider himself a homosexual, despite having had these thoughts on other occasions. 

Steve just... appreciated beautiful things. Always had. 

Peggy and Howard, _Bucky_  - had been beautiful.

_Tony was beautiful._

But Tony, as far as Steve knew, didn’t like him all that much, and he had to admit the feeling could be mutual at times, no matter how attractive he found the other man.

Tony's provocative streak was a draw in some ways, but it often served to infuriate Steve and anyone else who came into contact with him, and it was what had led to Tony currently being in the limelight of their captors. 

“You going to swallow it all for me Stark?" The crude, panting voice cut through Steve's musings. "Like a good little cock-slut?"   

Before Tony could react to the question, which Steve was certain wasn’t a real question either way, the engineer was jerked back by his hair, leaving his lips glistening with spit and pre-come as a hand grabbed his gasping face and tilted it upwards.

“Fuck, that's a good look on you.”

The hand that wasn’t squeezing Tony’s chin clutched the spit-slicked cock and pointed it at his face.

The first string of white liquid landed across his eyes, and the engineer flinched while the figure above him cursed and pulled on himself again. “You like that, huh? You little bitch. Keep your mouth open.” Another spurt hit his tongue, messily painting his parted lips and lower face as the man let out a final, disgusting groan. 

One of the onlookers uttered a low curse and braced himself against the wall on Tony's left. An additional few drops of white landed on the floor near the engineer's knees. Another soldier was in the process of tucking himself away, the evidence of what he'd been doing coating the tips of his boots. 

And Steve - he could feel himself –  _God_  –  he was terrible,  _sick_ , but he could feel warmth gathering in his midsection and rushing to his cheeks when the commanding soldier finally took a step back and he got a proper view of Tony’s miserable expression in the dim-lit space.

The sight of his teammate on his knees, red faced and glassy-eyed, his tousled hair sticking out to all sides, puffy lips wide open and glistening with come. It shouldn't have affected Steve the way it did. 

Tony was a colleague, a  _teammate_ ;granted _,_ an immensely  _attractive teammate,_  who’s body and face Steve occasionally found himself daydreaming about, but in those fantasies, Tony had always been the instigator.

 _Tony_  would be the one to slip a hand down and cup Steve’s crotch while he was occupied looking over the shorter man’s plans for a contraption in the lab. He’d tell Steve to sit back on his desk with a coy smile, his dark, alluring eyes winking up at him as he’d press his lips to Steve's abdomen –  the ghost of a soft laugh trickling over his skin while Tony made himself comfortable in his lap.

In his reveries about the engineer, Tony was always in control and enjoying every moment of it.

He had never assumed Tony to be a particularly passive or submissive participant in bed, and the idea of an unwilling partner was appalling. Yet now, presented with the image of a Tony who was clearly  _not_  in control or enjoying himself, trembling with humiliation and covered in the result of having been forced to pleasure the most depraved kind of criminal, Steve’s lower half evidently didn’t care whether his teammate was willing or not.

The masked man seemed to study Tony’s shuddering form as he zipped himself back up.

“Pretty goddamn good. You know how to suck cock, no question about that.”

He positioned a hand beneath his covered chin, as if thinking.

”You don’t look all that sated though. What’s the matter?” 

Tony’s eyes were fixed on the floor, mouth set in a thin line, refusing to acknowledge his tormentor, but the trembling and frantic intakes of air through his nose served as unmistakable evidence of how much the assault and threats had affected him.

Steve could feel sweat gather on his own brow. 

“Oh, right, of course. I almost forgot who we were dealing with." Laughter bounced off the walls again. "Obviously, one benefactor isn’t enough for you. You want more. Is that it?”

Tony’s eyes darted around the room before fixing on Steve's.  _Panic_  was the only word for the look in them, and Steve, useless, disgusting, semi-hard beneath his clothes, could do nothing but stare back. 

_Don’t say anything, don’t answer, don’t-_

He wanted to. God, the things he wanted to say to these people, this utter bastard antagonizing Tony in front of him – all of them. 

“What do you think Cap?”

 It was rare for him to wish death or serious injury upon someone else. He fought to keep his expression neutral, but he was sure the contempt he was feeling was visible on his face.

 _I think you’re pathetic. I think you’re disgusting. I think you need to go die in a ditch._  

“You costumed, crime-fighting faggots love to help each other out, right?” The man’s hand found Tony’s hair again, ruffling it as if the latter was a child. “And what we have here is a cock-slut in serious need of something to occupy himself with for the rest of the trip.”

There was a small pause as he let the words sink in. 

“Me and my friends are in a charitable mood, but we’ll have plenty of time to entertain Mr. Stark once we arrive. Our client has paid well to ensure his compliance while he’s in our custody."

One of the men in Steve's line of sight nudged another in the side, both of them snickering at the prospect of getting their hands on his teammate.  

"We’ll take  _good_  care of him, I can promise you that.”

The implications of those words and the loud cackling from the group of onlookers, as if the notion of violating Tony was hilarious, sent another burst of white hot rage through Steve’s veins. 

"The only reason your brain isn't staining the wall is because there's at least a dozen of people who would pay good money for Captain America alive." The voice went on. "Our current employer's interests only lie with Stark though, so our ways will be parting soon." 

Steve's eyes widened. They were planning on selling him, auction Steve off on some kind of black market and make away with Tony to deliver him to their client. Steve didn't know exactly what Tony was needed for, his skills as an inventor most likely. No matter what it was, it didn't bode well considering the kind of scumbags who had been hired to take him. 

"And it’d be a damned shame, if you missed out on this,” the gloved hand shook Tony's head, “- after spending so much time listening to his never-ending cascade of bullshit.”

Steve unconsciously shook his own head, dreading where this one-sided conversation was going. 

"No?" The hand in Tony's hair held him up, displaying the engineer like sort of expensive merchandise Steve wasn't willing to buy at full price. "Come on, don't lie to yourself. You want him." 

Steve clenched his jaw and averted his eyes.  _Not like this_. 

"His technique is good. He knows how to take it  _all the way_. And believe me, once you've felt those lips and his throat around your cock, you're going to regret not using him more."   

The words and mental images they conjured up sent a jolt of fear, and  _something_ else, though Steve's abdomen.He felt his member stir, and he clamped his teeth together with a choked-off sound which prompted an amused chuckle from above. 

"I knew it."

More laughter, another voice loudly exclaiming: "Captain America, a genuine, goddamn faggot. Who would have thought?" 

The irony of their captors referring to both him and Tony as sexual deviants wasn't lost on Steve, and if they hadn't been in such a vulnerable spot, the engineer would probably have had something clever to say about it.

Steve was almost glad he wasn't allowed to answer. It was shameful,  _depraved,_ but he couldn't hide his physical reaction to seeing Tony like this, and he couldn't defend it either.  

"You two," a finger jabbed in the direction of the audience, "help the Captain out."

He felt lightheaded, as if cotton and nothingness had replaced the contents of his skull. 

Through the haze he saw Tony's lips move without sound, wide eyes seeking Steve's out from behind the pair of soldiers who strode towards his position in the chair.   

"Lets see if he'll be enough to finally satisfy Mr. Stark's staggering lust for cock." 

 

   

 


End file.
